


Tony Stark and the Rat and the Scorpion

by LadyRa



Series: Macavity [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), NCIS, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Iron Man 1 AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1875327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRa/pseuds/LadyRa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3rd story in the Macavity Series.  Tony gets told he can't search for and rescue Tony Stark when he gets kidnapped.  He manages to send Stark a little help anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tony Stark and the Rat and the Scorpion

**Author's Note:**

> EPISODE SPOILERS: Nothing really for NCIS, just occasional quick references. Set during Iron Man 1. And as this is a major AU story, I used some of the movie dialogue but I did change it up: a warning for those purists among you.  
> WARNINGS: There is torture in this story, similar to the movie. No animals get hurt in the filming of this story.  
> NOTES: I am not going back and watching the movie, so I may get stuff wrong. Just go with it!

"I don't know the guy personally, other than his name and reputation, but is there a reason I'm not being sent to find him?" Tony asked, throwing the newspaper on the table in front of Phil Coulson. The headline announced that Tony Stark, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist, not to mention weapons designer, was still missing. "We know he got taken in Afghanistan. I now have several deadly animals on tap in the area. Why aren’t we going? It's been a week."

Phil pulled the paper closer, not looking happy.

"It's not like you couldn't have pulled me off the last mission early. I didn't really need to be there," Tony continued to argue as he sat down. "Do we hate this guy or something?"

"Sometimes," Phil said honestly.

Clint came into the kitchen where Phil and Tony were sitting. He glanced at the paper and winced. "Told you he'd find out."

"Thanks, Clint," Phil said with an annoyed glance. "Not helping."

"Were you really trying to keep this from me?" Tony asked, actually shocked. "You can't pass a TV without it playing as the top news story. Were you going to send me on a deep sea dive with the dolphins next?"

Phil looked disappointed that he hadn't thought of it.

"Phil," Tony said, tapping the paper, "explain please. I rescue a lot of people I think you'd rather I not rescue. What's up with this guy?"

"You won't like the answer," Phil warned him.

"I already don't like it," Tony said. 

"What's going on?" Gibbs asked, entering the kitchen, looking as exhausted as Tony felt. They’d gotten in really late and hadn't gotten much sleep in the days before.

"Tony Stark," Tony answered.

"When are we leaving? Do I have time for coffee first?" Gibbs asked after a pause, clearly wanting coffee more than he wanted to engage in conversation.

"Yes," came three replies, and then from Phil, "And we're not going anywhere, at least not to rescue Stark."

Silence reigned, and not all that comfortably, while Gibbs got out four mugs and brought them to the table along with a carton of half and half and a pound bag of sugar. Spoons came next, with a roll of paper towels.

Tony snickered. "You are all class."

"Shut up," Gibbs said, as he brought the full coffee carafe over and poured everyone a cup of coffee. There was another long minute as people reached for whatever they wanted to add to their coffees, and then Tony and Gibbs both stared at Phil.

Phil let out a sigh. "Okay. Without question, under normal circumstances, Tony Stark would be a target for you for search and rescue. In fact, I called Director Fury the minute I heard he'd been taken to get things rolling, with the intention of calling you back." He paused.

"And?" Tony pushed.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Phil explained, "We have a, well, an oracle named Destiny, who occasionally comes up with foretellings, and she had already contacted Director Fury with one about Stark." He glanced at Clint.

Clint carried on the story. "Neither Phil nor I really believe it, but apparently we have to let Stark stay captured because something will happen to him while he's a captive that will eventually save the world."

"He has to get himself out," Phil continued. "I argued, but she's right more often than she's wrong, and the Director wasn't willing to chance it. So there won't be a rescue."

"He's probably in the hands of terrorists," Gibbs pointed out.

"I know it," Phil said tersely. "And while the man drives me crazy, I wouldn't wish that on him. But I've got my orders, and if she's right we could be doing more harm than good."

"It sounds like this oracle believes he'll eventually escape," Gibbs said, draining his first cup and filling it up again, using the remainder of the coffee. He got up to make a fresh pot.

"That's what it sounds like," Phil agreed, leaning back, arms crossed over his chest.

"I don't like it," Tony scowled. "It would take me ten minutes to find him. An hour tops."

"I know it would," Phil said. "That's not the point."

"The point is that some person who can sometimes predict the future is telling us to leave a man someplace where he will get tortured." Tony was vehemently against that plan.

"I don't like it either," Phil said, staring at Tony, as if begging him to let this drop.

Tony couldn't let it drop. He'd been lying when he said he barely knew the guy. Well, he did barely know the guy, but you couldn't watch TV the way Tony did and not follow the exploits of Tony Stark. He was awesome. He was funny, good-looking, and brilliant, and all Tony could see in his mind's eye now was the man being tortured because someone said they shouldn't rescue him.

And maybe that wasn't fair, because ever since this animal thing had happened to Tony, his ability to believe in magic and the outlandish had, by necessity, grown, but oracles were another whole kettle of fish. If Tony could help, he wanted to help.

"This is bullshit," was all he said and strode from the room. 

*****

A week later, things were tense around the house. 

“Seriously?” Clint said to Phil. “We usually get a couple of days off if we’re lucky between missions with Tony. I never knew how many people managed to get themselves lost every week. But this week we have none? Really? No one’s lost? No one’s missing? How is that even possible? Couldn't we pay someone to get lost?”

Phil couldn’t believe it either. And of course, it had to be this week that they had nothing to do but sit around and think about Tony Stark. Everyone was walking on eggshells because Tony was pissed. And when Tony was pissed, the animals were pissed, and they passed the emotions on to everyone else. 

“I just checked in with Director Fury to see if the oracle had changed her mind, or if there was something else we needed to do and he’s got nothing.” Phil didn’t bother to say that Fury wasn’t any happier about the situation than he was.

“Tony had Expedia open on his laptop. He’s gonna try to go by himself,” Clint told him.

“Not without me,” Gibbs said, striding in at that moment. After Tony, he had the most animals he'd bonded with, and the stress of it was showing on his face. His appreciably younger face, but still, his forehead was furrowed, and he was rubbing his temple as if he had a headache.

“Justin,” Tony yelled from upstairs.

The rat came from out of nowhere and scampered up the stairs.

“What’s that about?” Clint asked.

“No idea.” Gibbs moved to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. “You guys want anything?”

Phil shook his head, but Clint nodded. “Same, please.”

Gibbs popped the tops off and handed one to Clint.

There was a scrabbling noise on the floor and all three men watched as Rock, one of the scorpions, made its way across the dining room, the living room, and then started to slowly make its way up the stairs. Another one of the rats, Phil was losing track of them all, met him on the stairs, let Rock crawl on his back, and took him the rest of the way up.

“Something else you don’t see every day,” Clint said. “I totally have to start videoing this shit. I’d be rich by now because they’d all go viral.”

“And you’d enjoy that money so much at the bottom of a deep hole somewhere,” Phil reminded him.

Macavity looked at the three of them from where he was lounging on the couch, and then he got up and, nonchalantly, headed upstairs.

“I smell a plot,” Clint said. He mentally encouraged Raksha to go listen for him.

Raksha sent him a joyful but clear message: 'no'. Tony was still the boss to all of them, and they never ratted him out except to Gibbs.

“You tell someone to go up there and eavesdrop,” Clint told Gibbs.

“Rock is already up there. But he’s not saying much, to me at least.”

“Send up someone with a bigger brain,” Phil suggested. He glanced around for Baloo. Sometimes he'd let stuff slip in his effort for everyone to be one big happy family.

Then he noticed the other rats. They were trying to be sneaky, sticking to the walls and behind the furniture, but it was hard not to notice seven rats with seven scorpions, one on each rat, being ferried across the length of the rooms to the stairs.

"Subtle," Clint said with an eye roll.

“Rats and scorpions,” Gibbs said, getting back to his feet. “He’s making plans.” He headed to the staircase.

“What are you going to do?” Phil asked.

“Make plans with him.”

“You can’t go rescue Stark,” Phil said.

“I’d like to see you stop Tony if he decides to ignore that order,” Gibbs told him, trotting up the stairs.

“Shit,” Phil said, wondering if he could stop Tony. He’d have to find a way to fly there, and Phil could stop that, most likely. At least any commercial airlines, but if Tony found a private jet to take him, Phil might not know that until it was too late. He could put Tony under house arrest but he didn’t want to end up at odds with the man.

A few minutes later there was a lot of noise coming down the steps and Clint let out a bark of laughter. Tony looked like something out of a horror movie. There were two scorpions on his head, one hanging off an ear. There was one on each shoulder, and the last three were clutching a piece of fabric to hang onto his shirt.

Gibbs had the rats hanging onto him, Justin in pride of place on his shoulder.

“Please can I at least take a picture?” Clint begged, whipping out his phone. “I promise I won’t post it anywhere. Abby would kill me if I didn’t take a picture.” He took a few pictures without waiting for permission, but Phil was fine with it. He didn’t care what they kept in the family, and Clint never took his personal phone on missions with him.

Tony sat at the table, several of the scorpions clattering to the table top and skittering around. Clint went to get some Oreos and spread them around. That was always worth a good laugh.

“Justin came up with an idea I want to put on the table as a counter offer,” Tony said.

“I’m all ears,” Phil said. Justin was pretty smart for a rat.

“You guys want to work with Stark in the future, right?”

“Right.”

“I mean, he’d be a part of this Avengers Initiative, right, making weapons, being a consultant, that sort of stuff?”

“Right,” Phil said, waiting for Tony to put his finger on the biggest problem with their current course of action, or inaction.

“And he’s going to meet me and know I do search and rescue,” Tony said.

“Yup,” Clint agreed.

“And he’s going to want to know why I didn’t rescue him. And he’s going to be angry, and hurt, and there will probably be negative repercussions,” Tony said.

“Yes, there will be,” Phil agreed. He’d discussed with Fury that they didn’t really want to be Tony Stark’s enemy, but Fury hadn’t wanted to budge, saying they’d work it out. 

“I want to go over there and send in some animals to help him. I could start with rats; rats are everywhere, so they wouldn't seem suspicious. And if I need them, I'll line up some scorpions. They did a good job protecting Clint, and maybe they could do the same for Tony. The rats could maybe sneak him food. To make him feel like…I don’t know…”

“Like something’s looking out for him?” Gibbs asked, putting his hands on Tony's shoulders, kissing the top of his head, and then leaning over to pat Justin. "Good idea, Justin."

“It will be like a little slice of magic,” Clint said. “I like it. Stark will like it, assuming he doesn’t eat any rats you send in.”

Tony grimaced. “I’ll warn them.”

Tony, Gibbs, and Clint looked at Phil. Phil thought about it, thought about the power of an act of kindness, even if it was from an impossible source. “Do it.” He reached for his phone. “I’ll call Ms. Potts, see if she’ll let us use one of Stark’s jets.”

Clint’s eyes lit up. “Tell me I’ll get to fly it, please.”

“You’ll get to fly it.”

“Awesome,” Clint said. “I love me a Stark jet.”

“Are you going to tell Fury?” Gibbs asked.

“When we’re back,” Phil said.

“You don’t think he’ll notice we’re going?” Tony asked.

“Probably,” Phil said, “but I bet he’s hoping we’ll come up with a workaround, so he might pretend not to notice until we’re back.”

“Phil,” Clint said, grabbing his tie. “I totally want to take you upstairs and have my wicked way with you. You being a rule-breaker is so hot.”

Tony snickered.

Phil willed himself not to blush. He shot Clint a look that hopefully conveyed the message to hold that thought, and then he started talking when Pepper picked up on her end.

*****

Tony Stark looked at the blueprints of the suit he was attempting to build and then at the pile of scrap around him. He indulged himself in a long moment of futile rage and frustration, wishing he could have a temper tantrum and get away with it. The last time he’d tried, they had water boarded him, and he wasn’t anxious for that to happen again anytime soon.

The worst of it was the hunger. Well, the anticipation of torture sucked, too, but the hunger never ended. At home, he ate sporadically at best, but he ate well and whenever and whatever he wanted. He was fucking starving to death here, barely keeping his brain functioning on the meager meals he and Yinsen were served. He clearly wasn’t a long term investment to his captors; he was just a means to an end.

“I am hungry,” he announced. Yinsen was the only one who could hear him, and Yinsen didn’t care. He was doing his own starving on his own cot. 

“So fucking hungry,” Tony continued. “I could do with a huge hamburger, rare, still juicy, right? So when you take a bite, the meat juice gets all over your chin and fingers. With lettuce, tomatoes, onions, but no pickles, I don’t like pickles on hamburgers. Oh, oh, a cheeseburger. A bacon cheeseburger with fries. Crinkle cut fries. Salty. And a Coke. God, even a Pepsi, I’m not picky today.” He licked his dry lips, then glanced at several small darts of motion in the corners of the room. “Is it just me, or are there more rats than usual?”

“You could have a rat burger,” Yinsen told him.

Tony was hungry, but he wasn’t that hungry. Not yet. “Why are there more rats all of a sudden?”

"The rats come and go," Yinsen said, like some damn Buddhist monk. Tony was grateful for his company, and that the man had managed to keep him alive, but it just wasn’t natural for someone to be that calm all the time.

"Thanks, Yoda," Tony said. "Okay, that's strange. I swear that rat is staring at me."

Yinsen took a look. "I agree. He is staring at you."

"Why is a rat staring at me?" He scowled at the rat. "Why are you staring at me?"

The rat's nose twitched. It stood there as if waiting for Tony to do something. Tony did not need this aggravation. Bad enough he was a prisoner of war, a battery was keeping him alive, he hurt everywhere, he was starving, and now a rat was pressuring him.

"Be useful," Tony told it. "Get me something to eat. A hunk of cheese, anything." He was not looking forward to getting hungry enough that the thought of rat sounded too good to pass up. Not that the swill they fed him was much of a step up. But at least it was already dead and cooked.

The rat's whiskers quivered and then the rat was gone.

Even the rats didn't like him. 

Even more discouraged, Tony started moving scrap around with his feet, looking for useful bits. He wondered if he'd ever see his lab again. Wondered what Dum-E and You and Butterfinger were doing without him. Tony had to crouch down for a moment as he was momentarily crippled with fear and loneliness and a desperate aching need to get the fuck out of here. It left him paralyzed and his gut churned, but he couldn't afford to throw up again. He covered his face with his hands, trying to breathe through it. Trying to calm his riotous heart rate and relax his muscles, which were so tight it was hard to move.

He heard something crinkle and turned his head, only to see that the rat was back. It was dragging something with its teeth, something almost as large as its torso. It was brightly colored, mustard yellow and…"Holy fuck, are those Fritos?" Tony would recognize that branding no matter what, even if the writing on the packaging was in Urdu.

The rat dropped the bag at Tony's feet and glanced up at him.

Tony knew all about anthropomorphizing, but he'd swear the rat was grinning at him.

"Is that for me?" he asked, staring at the rat. He was still hunkered down so the rat was only a foot away from him.

The rat nodded. Seriously. It nodded.

"Are you shitting me?"

The rat's ears turned this way and that as if considering the question. Finally, the rat just nosed the bag closer to Tony.

Tony didn't need a second invitation. If he'd been asked, he'd have probably sold Obie for a Frito a few seconds ago. He ripped the bag open and glanced inside. Yup. The golden yumminess of Fritos. Tony felt like he'd died and gone to heaven. He shoved one in his mouth and closed his eyes as the salty corn taste filled his mouth.

Yinsen was suddenly crouching next to him, reaching for the bag.

Tony yanked the bag away. "The rat brought it to me," he complained.

Yinsen just looked at him with that look that always made Tony feel like he was three years old and still wasn't toilet trained. It was just…Fritos…and a rat had brought it to him.

The rat had scuttled away a few feet when Yinsen had joined him, but it was watching them closely. Tony sighed and, while not letting go of the bag, offered it to Yinsen to help himself. 

"Rats don't often deliver chips," Yinsen remarked, eating the Fritos as slowly as Tony, as if trying to commit to memory every single drop of salty deliciousness.

"No, they don't," Tony agreed. He took out one Frito and, sitting on the ground, held it out to the rat. "Delivery fee. Bring me another bag and there are two chips in it for you."

The rat gave Yinsen a cautious look and then approached, gingerly taking the chip from Tony's fingers with its teeth.

Tony had no idea why the fact that the rat liked him better than Yinsen brought a sting of tears to his eyes. Anybody in their right mind would like Yinsen better than Tony. But this rat had brought Fritos to Tony and was willing to be close enough to take one from Tony's hand.

The rat sat back on its haunches and started eagerly nibbling on the Frito, glancing up at Tony every now and then with a 'This is a fucking great Frito!' expression on its face.

Unable to resist, Tony reached out and ran a finger down the rat's back.

"Don't let him bite you," Yinsen said. "They carry many diseases."

Tony snorted out a laugh at the look on the rat's face, like Yinsen had just insulted its entire family tree. The rat took a pause from eating its Frito to chitter in an undeniably pissed off manner at Yinsen.

"This is a most unusual rat," Yinsen observed, after the rat was done yelling at him.

Tony got that. He touched the rat again, feeling lost in wonder at this moment out of time, like a fucking fairy tale with magic rats. "Can you get us out of here?" Tony asked, because why the fuck not?

The rat shook his head at Tony. Then, before Tony could object, the rat scrabbled up his leg and his arm, until he was on Tony's shoulder, and it rubbed its little rat cheek against Tony's. Then it scampered down and vanished down the hall.

"You saw that, right?" Tony asked Yinsen.

"I did. I don't believe it, but I did see it. Most remarkable."

Tony turned the now empty bag over his mouth to shake out any last remaining crumbs. That had been the best bag of chips he'd ever eaten in his life. Ever. And throw the rat craziness in, and Tony would swear it was the best meal he'd ever had. Between the chips and that small gesture of friendship, Tony felt warmer than he had since he'd ended up in this Godforsaken hell hole. He turned away from Yinsen so he could touch his cheek unseen, swearing he could still feel the warmth of the rat's fur.

*****

The next day, Yinsen had to interpret what his captors had to say, but it was hard to listen to what Yinsen was saying, because two of them were holding Tony by the arms, while a third punched him in his stomach and kidneys, until Tony was gagging and he was sure his urine was going to be red. He really didn't need any interpretation; they weren't happy with his progress. Tony got the message loud and clear. 

They let him drop to the floor, kicking him several times for good measure. He sobbed out a couple of breaths, tempted for a moment to yank the monstrosity out of his chest and just let the whole thing be over. Death seemed like a blessed relief at this point, but it only seemed that way for a long terrifying moment. Tony wasn't the quitting kind; it wasn’t his nature. He always fought back; he'd been fighting his whole life and there was no stopping now. 

His captors finally left, and Tony let out a moan, rolling onto his back, keeping track of the wires that ran to the battery. "Let me guess," Tony groaned. "They didn't like the color."

Yinsen snorted. "They do not like that it is not complete. You must work harder, Stark."

There was a soft clatter of claws and the rat was suddenly on his shoulder, taking care to stay away from the device in his chest, looking down at him with what could only be construed as anxiety; the rat was holding its tail, worrying it. Tony let out a shaky laugh. "Got any booze on you? I could really use a drink."

The rat chittered at him, did the same pressing of his cheek to Tony's, and was off in a blink. In response to that tiny perceived kindness in this hellhole, it was all Tony could do not to curl in a ball and weep. Even if the rat probably just liked the smell of oil and body odor, it felt kind and loving, and it reminded him that he was far from any gentleness and was in fact dealing with the epitome of the opposite of benevolence.

"Fuck," he said, wiping his eyes, not even caring if Yinsen saw him crying. Knowing him, he was looking the other way to give him his privacy. Yinsen was his own sort of kindness.

He lay on the floor, waiting for the pain to ebb, waiting until he thought he could stand without doubling over. 

There was a crash in another part of the warren they were in, coupled with angry shouts. Tony was curious, but not curious enough to go anywhere near anybody who might decide to make him their punching bag again. 

Yinsen let out a choked laugh just as Tony took in the sound of something being dragged along the ground in his direction. He chanced a look and found himself sitting up in astonishment, disregarding the pain, as four rats pushed a bottle of beer at him. 

"You have got to be kidding me," Tony said, jaw actually dropping. He couldn't remember the last time he was this flabbergasted. "Am I on Candid Camera?" He looked around the room he and Yinsen were in with suspicious eyes. This seemed an extraordinarily extravagant and painful prank, but the only other explanation was that he had rats hanging around who could suddenly understand English and had decided that every wish of Tony's was their command.

The bottle rolled against his foot, and Tony, wincing, leaned over to pick it up. He wasn't familiar with the brand, and couldn't read anything on the label, but beer was beer, and the look of the bottle was unmistakable. Thank God it was a twist off, although at this point Tony wouldn’t have been surprised if a fifth rat showed up with a bottle opener.

"Tell me you're really seeing this," Tony asked Yinsen. He could, of course, be hallucinating, although this would be a very weird set of images for even his brain to come up with.

"I am seeing it, but I am not believing it," Yinsen said, his voice full of awe.

Tony twisted the top off, and then offered it to Yinsen. "Want a swig?"

Yinsen smiled at him, but said, "I do not drink, but thank you."

Just as glad, because he really didn't feel like sharing, he took a long swallow. It was cold and wet and the most extraordinarily delicious and wonderful beer of his life. He already knew that no other beer would ever taste as good as this Cinderella beer brought to him by four rats.

It took less than a minute to drink it down, and then he kept the bottle and let the condensation cool his forehead and the back of his neck. The three helper rats had vanished, but his buddy rat was sitting and watching him. It still had its tail in its paws, like a human wringing his hands, as if Tony maybe hadn't liked the brand he'd brought.

"Best beer ever," Tony told him. "Thank you."

The rat sat up taller, wiggled its ears, twitched its nose, and continued to stare at Tony.

Tony couldn't believe how much better he felt. "That was like pure medicine, buddy, really." He shifted closer to the rat, and patted his thigh. "Come here."

The rat climbed up to his leg and continued staring.

Tony patted it, gently running his fingers along its fur, teasing its whiskers. "Are you real or am I hallucinating?"

The rat grabbed one of his fingers and bit hard enough to sting, but not enough to draw blood.

"Ow," Tony yelped. "Okay, you made your point." He stared back at the rat. "You really do understand what I'm saying, don't you?"

The rat nodded.

All of a sudden, Tony felt like he could get his metal suit done and a dozen other projects besides. He put out his palm and the rat climbed onto it. Tony carefully got to his feet and walked to where he and Yinsen had hidden the blueprints for the machine they were really creating. He put the rat on the work table and got to work.

*****

"Still no news?" Gibbs asked Phil, as they met once again in the kitchen. Phil had already made a pot of coffee, so Gibbs helped himself. Clint was comatose at the table, his nose inhaling coffee fumes. 

Tony was happily sleeping the sleep of the recently sexually exhausted, and Gibbs was feeling quite proud of himself. It didn't hurt that he'd lost about twenty years off his age, and felt better than he had in decades. He seemed to be stabilizing, which he was glad of, not sure what he'd have done if he woke up looking eighteen-years-old a year from now.

Phil and Clint were also looking younger. It made Gibbs wonder if the magic put you back at the age where you were on top of your game and felt like you had life all figured out. Not that you ever really had life figured out. Twenty years ago meant that Kelly and Shannon would soon be dead, and for the next twenty Gibbs would think he'd never feel whole again.

Nothing had prepared him for one Tony DiNozzo to appear in his life, let alone the magical menagerie that surrounded them. As if summoned, Baloo padded into the kitchen, followed by Raksha, who immediately went to nuzzle Clint. Tucker, now a regular part of the Baloo and Raksha appreciation club, headed for Phil to nose at his groin.

Phil batted him away, but then skritched him between his ears and around his collar. "No. They're still searching for him. Has Tony heard anything?"

"He's not sure he will. They're pretty far away."

"Hard for rats to do the Twilight Bark," Clint muttered from his sleepy stupor.

"What?" Gibbs said.

"101 Dalmatians," Clint said, lifting his head and taking a long gulp of coffee. "Ah," he sighed happily, beaming at his coffee cup. "We watched it the other day for the Scottish Terrier that joined the party, as well as for Hooch, you know, the bloodhound. I thought Tony was going to have a stroke when we all thought the terrier was dead. Which reminds me, the terrier's name is Jock. Wait, though, maybe that was Lady and the Tramp. Jock I mean. The Twilight Bark was totally what Pongo and Perdita used."

Gibbs looked at Phil. "Did any of that make sense to you?"

Phil shook his head. "Nope." To Clint, he said, "I know you don't function well first thing in the morning unless someone puts a bow and arrow in your hand, but how does this pertain to the conversation?"

Clint sighed as if he were surrounded by idiots. "How is it that I'm the expert on Disney movies? Jesus, Gibbs, you must have seen each one like a dozen times. 101 Dalmations. A litter of puppies were kidnapped and they have to be rescued, so to put the word out, the dogs institute the Twilight Bark, like the game of operator but more successful, and they communicated across the country, barking messages back and forth to help find them."

Tony stumbled into the kitchen wearing sleep pants and nothing more, although he held a t-shirt in his hands.

Scowling, Clint said, "He gets better looking every day. How is that even fair? Cover that shit up before I start thinking about cheating on Phil."

Gibbs sent Clint a look that he hoped could kill, and Phil was sending one of his own. It was true, though. Tony really was ridiculously handsome. Gibbs' groin grew tight, and he wished he could take Tony right back upstairs.

Tony snickered but did put on his T-shirt.

"Kidding," Clint said to Phil. "But, come on, tell me you'd kick him out of bed."

Phil shot a sidelong glance at Gibbs, but then grinned. "I don't think many people would."

"That's enough of that," Gibbs growled. It was absurd, but Gibbs couldn't move past the sense that his territory was at constant risk of invasion; his territory being Tony.

Tony smirked and then leaned down and kissed Gibbs' cheek. "It's like they're not even there, sweetums. Don't you worry about a thing."

"Not as reassuring as you think," Gibbs growled.

Tony cocked his head, taking a serious look at Gibbs. "We've had this talk before. I still can't believe you'd think for a second that you need to worry about this. You are so it for me."

Gibbs grumbled, feeling embarrassed but reassured at the same time. He knew he was an idiot, but it was hard not to worry when everyone gawked at Tony all the time with lascivious gazes.

"And you know you don't have to worry about me," Clint said. "But there's no help with the looking thing when he comes down here half naked. Sorry about that." He grinned unrepentantly. 

To Gibbs' relief, as he was very done with this conversation, Phil went back to their previous conversation. "Is it possible for you to speak to the rats you sent out to see if they found Stark?"

Tony opened the refrigerator and stared at its contents. "I can try, but even when I was visiting Aunt Helen last week, while I could sense the general tenor of the emotions of the animals here, I couldn't talk to any of them."

"But maybe you could if you did…," Clint paused dramatically then added, "the Twilight Bark." 

Tony spun around. "How cool would that be?" He looked enraptured. "Justin!"

Justin was never far from Tony, so he was on the kitchen counter in just a few seconds to see what Tony wanted.

"Is there any way you could talk to the rats we sent after Tony Stark by sending messages along?"

"Like the Twilight Bark?" Justin asked.

Gibbs couldn't help but laugh. 

"What is it?" Clint asked.

"He asked about the Twilight Bark," Gibbs told him. "I’m guessing Justin watched the movie?"

"Yes, he did," Clint said. "There was quite a gang."

"Where was I?" Gibbs asked.

"You'd been corralled by Dotty," Tony said with a frown. "She wanted to show you her veterinarian's version of etchings."

"The jealousy thing goes both ways," Gibbs told Tony. Dotty continued to be a bit of a trial. If she didn't take such superb care of all the animals, and have such a high security clearance, Gibbs would be tempted to find someone else. "Trust me, I'd rather have been watching your twilight bark movie."

"Is she really a problem?" Phil asked.

"Yes," Tony said, as Gibbs said, "No." Gibbs rolled his eyes at Tony. "She's a nuisance, more than anything. It's not like I'm going to succumb to her wiles." 

Pouting, Tony grabbed an orange and sat down next to Gibbs.

Phil looked at Tony, his eyebrows up, but Tony waved his concern off. "It's just stupid. I know Gibbs isn't going to stray, but she's so blatant about it. Sometimes I think she does it just to get under my skin. She's also annoyed that none of the animals have asked to bond with her but they know she pisses me off, so they won't do it. Let's get back to the Twilight Bark. Probably rats would work the best, right? The ocean has to be filled with ships with rats." He grinned with delight. Justin leaped off the counter onto Tony's shoulder. "What do you think?" he asked the rat.

Justin looked dubious.

"Come on," Tony wheedled. "How about we try together?" Tony took his coffee cup and moved into the living room and sat on the couch, Justin on the coffee table in front of him. Tim and Ziva, the rat versions, joined him.

Abby arrived then, with bags of groceries, and insisted on helping. She, along with Tony, coached the rats on what images to hold, and the concept of passing it along to other rats. They ran an experiment by trying to communicate with the rats that hung out with his Aunt Helen. It took about half an hour, but all of a sudden Tony grinned. "Message sent and received, and mission accomplished."

"What was the mission?" Clint asked.

Abby kissed Tony on the cheek. "For one of the rats to bring Helen a flower. You're such a softie."

Tony gave her a hug, and said, "Well, Helen's had a ridiculously horrible life through no fault of her own, so she deserves a rat bringing her a flower. They can't even bond with her through me, which sucks. They weren't kidding about that curse thing."

"Okay then," Abby said. "Should we try across the ocean?"

"We're going to need a lot more rats," Tony said.

What followed was another one of those weird DiNozzo adventures that made no sense outside of a comic book. He went outside and sat on the ground, fingers of one hand digging into the dirt, and the rats came by the hundreds, a disconcertingly large number, in all sizes and shapes, and Gibbs guessed Tony would be getting bit by some new species of rat before the day was through.

Four hours later, the scorpions were on their way.

*****

The next time his captors came in to see his progress, they didn't even bother having Yinsen interpret. There really wasn't any need. They dragged Tony towards the water, and Tony started fighting back. There was no hope of his winning; he had a man on each side of him, well-fed, non-injured men, and there were at least six others watching, most of them with a sick look in their eyes, like they were going to get off on him being almost drowned over and over again.

Tony couldn't do it again. He'd rather be beaten daily, starved, and have some freakish reactor in his chest to run his heart for the rest of his life than go through this water torture. No matter how much he fought, though, every second brought him closer, until they turned him around and, this time, strapped him to a board. He kept them from it for a minute or two, flailing his arms around, biting at anything that came into reach, until he was hit hard enough to see stars and held him down until he could be tied down.

"You fuckers!" he yelled, memorizing their faces. They were dead, each and every one of them.

That was when the scorpions struck. They were huge ugly fuckers, pitch black, shiny, about two inches long, with huge fat pinchers, and the signature curvy tail of the insect, the venomous stinger at the end.

They dropped from above until there had to be five or six on each man. The men all abandoned Tony to shriek and scrape them off, slapping at them and getting stung for their efforts. A couple landed on Tony as he lay there, helpless, and Tony grimaced in anticipation, waiting for the feel of the sting. But they didn't sting him; they spun around, as if keeping track of what was going on around them, clicking their claws angrily when anyone got too close. It was as if they were…and it was impossible, even more impossible than rats bringing him Fritos and beer…, but he'd swear they were protecting him.

The men began dropping away, or gasping, weakly crying for help, leaving Tony tied up, his comfort the farthest thing from their minds, not that it had ever been there to begin with.

Tony suddenly had to go to the bathroom. He was getting splinters from the board. What if they were all dead, and he was going to die here, tied to this piece of wood, where no one would ever fucking find him? That was all it took to get him straining against the rope, trying to get any part of him loose to aid in getting the rest of him free.

One of the scorpions was eying his hands and Tony hoped to God it wasn't going to sting him. But, instead, it crawled to his shoulder and looked down at the ground. Less than a minute later, there were rats all over him, and Tony let out a cry until he realized they were chewing on the ropes.

The scorpion had called the rats to come and chew him free.

Tony tried the sentence again in his mind and it continued to make no sense. And yes, it was happening right in front of him, but he still didn't believe it. "Hey," he said to the scorpion still on his shoulder, “can you understand me?"

The scorpion stared at him, made a clacking sound with its pinchers, and then his rat buddy was sitting next to the scorpion as if called.

"Hey," Tony said.

The rat wriggled its nose.

"You guys understand each other?"

The rat nodded.

"How is that possible?" Tony asked. "Seriously. How is any of this possible?"

The rat looked at the scorpion then back at Tony. He scratched at its ear and then, with a shrug, began to nibble at the rope across Tony's chest.

With all of them working, he was free in just a few minutes and said, "Standing up now. Anyone who doesn't have a good handhold to keep you from making a rapid descent to the floor needs to move."

The two scorpions held on, and the rat simply moved to his shoulder as Tony, very ungracefully, made his way to his feet. He glanced at the dead men around him. More of them had left, but he'd bet all of them were dead now. "Raza's going to be one unhappy camper," Tony said. Massive understatement. "I need to get that suit done now." He took a crazy chance and placed the flat of his hand near to where the scorpions were clinging to his shirt. 

They easily crawled off his shirt onto his hands, their tails tight against their bodies. "This may all be a massive hallucination, but just in case, I need you guys to keep them away from where I'm working. Can you do that?"

The rat chittered at him, tugging on a piece of his hair.

"And try not to get killed," Tony said. "You guys might look tough, but I'm afraid any one of my weapons could rip you apart, and trust me, these guys look like they went to a Stark Industries blue light special sale." Something Tony planned to do something about as soon as he could. He had a ball of shame in the pit of his stomach that his weapons were keeping these kinds of people in business.

He walked with his personal entourage, a few extra rats following along, and spent the rest of the day working without being disturbed, getting as much done that day as he had since he'd started.

*****

It couldn't last, of course. Raza returned and he didn't care about scorpions. "You think you are scared of a bug?" he asked, shooting one of his men to prove his point. "You should be more scared of me!" and he shot another.

Tony was adding up the men he knew were dead, and the men he suspected would sneak out of the camp tonight, and wondered what Raza would do when he realized how few men he had left.

Tony suspected things would get really unpleasant. And considering things were already really, really unpleasant, Tony would just as soon not be around. That meant he needed to get this thing done.

He saw a scorpion out of the corner of his eye and he shook his head, motioning it to stay hidden. Damned if it didn't do as told, and scuttle beneath the hunk of metal it had peeked out of. 

Raza shot the piece of metal and then stormed over, ripping it away, yelling, "They are two inches long. You are men with weapons from the famous Mr. Stark." He stared at the ground, but the scorpion was even smarter than Tony had thought and had gone deep for cover. 

Raza kicked the metal again in Tony's direction, and Tony couldn't dodge fast enough and got clipped in the shin hard enough to take him down, slicing his hand open on a smaller piece of metal on the floor. "Fuck," he said, before he could think better of it.

Raza grabbed his hand, and stuck his finger in the wound, grinding down. "Perhaps I will find a scorpion and put it in your hand and sew it in. Do you think you might work faster then?" he threatened Tony.

"Actually no," Tony said, categorically unable not to be a smartass. "That would essentially cripple me and then I would die, so I'd work slower and then I wouldn't work at all. Although it sounds like fun."

Tony knew his mouth would be the death of him, and at the look in Raza's eyes, it might be right now.

But then a rat, not his rat, but another one, ran right up Raza's leg, across his shoulders and back down the other leg, squeaking at him the entire time. Raza let out a yell, then pulled his machine gun down and started firing like a madman at every shadow he saw. 

Holding pressure to his hand, Tony hunkered down with Yinsen behind one of the piles of scrap metal. When the firing stopped, Raza pointed his rifle at Tony's forehead. "You have 'til tomorrow to assemble my missile." Then he tapped Tony's forehead with the barrel of his rifle, and Tony flinched back from the heat of it, not willing to get branded. Raza’s eyes were speculative as if he was trying to determine just how much harm he could do without making it impossible for Tony to finish the job.

Tony, for once, kept his mouth shut. He'd gotten enough done today that if he worked all night, he'd have the suit finished tomorrow.

Raza snorted at Tony disgustedly, kicked the metal, glared at the floor, no doubt looking for rats and scorpions, and then stormed out, taking his men with him.

"Jesus," Tony said, lying flat on his back. "That just never gets old." He still kept pressure on his hand, both hands resting on his stomach. 

He heard a scrabbling noise and then the scorpion was climbing up his side until he was resting right near Tony's wounded hand. It clacked its pinchers at Tony as if it was scolding him.

"Not my fault," Tony told him. "I fell down."

More clacking.

"Do you always have such relationships with animals?" Yinsen asked.

"I never even had a dog," Tony said, risking his life and prodding back at the pinchers. It would be sort of cool to have a scorpion as a pet. A rat and a scorpion. He'd never seen himself as a rat and scorpion kind of guy, but a man could change.

Yinsen gave the scorpion a baleful glance, but still went for Tony's hand, giving it a sharp perusal, and then he checked his shin. "Your leg is fine and the hand would be better treated with some stiches, but it is not too deep. I predict that you will live." He began to wrap it tightly with strips from Tony's meager bedding. "I do not think you will be sleeping tonight."

Tony sighed, "No, no sleep for me. But, hey, you won't be sleeping either so there's that. Misery loves company and all that bullshit."

Yinsen let out a soft chuff of amusement. "Come. There is much to do, and I do not know if Raza will allow his men to stay away. We will have to appear to be working on the missile at the same time."

"Sleight of hand," Tony said. "I approve of your tactics." He stood up, wincing as his shin, despite Yinsen's medical diagnosis, made its displeasure known as he put his weight on it. "Let's get busy." 

*****

"What?" Gibbs said, staring at Baloo who had flung the door open and bounded into the kitchen. His bounding made the floor shake.

"What's up?" Tony asked Gibbs and Baloo. He continued eating his particularly delicious sandwich and really didn't want to be disturbed. 

Clearly deciding he'd get further with Gibbs, Baloo grunted out a sentence. Tony couldn't help grinning; Baloo's new thing was pretending he could talk human out loud, and the sentences and accompanying noises were long and complicated. Indecipherable without the telepathy, but very amusing.

"Apparently there's a Twilight Bark message for you," Gibbs said, rolling his eyes, even as he grinned along with Tony.

"Seriously?" Tony said, beaming, putting down his sandwich. "Show me," he said to Baloo.

Baloo pointed outside, sending an image of a rat waiting for him in the back yard.

"Lay on, MacDuff," Tony said. He followed Baloo down the back steps, taking a moment to rub his fur and love him to pieces. That resulted in Tony on his knees getting the stuffing hugged out of him. "Yeah, yeah," Tony said, nose against Baloo's soft ruff, "I love you, too."

There was an annoyed squeak behind him, and Tony turned to find a rat looking mighty peeved. 

"Well, hello there," Tony said. "I don't think we've been introduced. And are you a new species to me? Do you need to bite me?" Tony had a whole section of rat tattoos, and a much smaller section, at his request, because they were damn scary, of scorpion tattoos.

The rat nodded, and Tony held out his hand. "Have at it," he said. 

Macavity hissed, suddenly at his side.

"But do it gently," Tony advised, "or you'll be talking to the boss here." He leaned in to the rat. "He knows what he's talking about, because he took a chunk out of my hand when he first met me."

The rat glared at Macavity, even as the cat meowed loudly at Tony in complaint.

"Gotta keep you honest," Tony said with a grin, before scooping up Macavity and letting the cat rub his cheeks all over Tony's face. "There, see? Now I'm totally your territory." He put Macavity down, who acted as if he was above all this nonsense. Tony laughed; and then hunkered down until he was sitting by the rat. "Sorry about that. Give it your best shot."

The rat gently scratched him.

"Nicely done," Tony told him approvingly.

What followed was a blazingly fast communication that consisted of part Tony Stark assembling what looked to be some sort of metal man, and how it was almost done, and he would be leaving soon, and he might need to be rescued because there were bad men there who hurt him.

"What is he so excited about?" Gibbs asked.

"It's a she, first of all, and it's a little garbled, no doubt due to the long range communication system, but I think Tony Stark's about ready to leave wherever he is. It sounds like he might be rescuing himself by wearing some sort of robot? Or he's building a robot? Something with weapons? Anyway, tomorrow's the big day." He glanced over at Gibbs. "Can we go get him yet?"

"No," Phil said, doing his ninja thing and suddenly appearing, "but I'll make sure someone is there to find him. Can you get a sense of where he is?"

"I probably could if I was over there. All she keeps showing me is a sky with a lot of stars. And not," Tony said when Phil looked like he might say something, "with any clarity so I could describe it to someone with a star map. It's just blotchy white on a black sky. I don't think stars mean too much to rats." 

"I'll call Ms. Potts," Phil said, "and see if she'll loan us the plane again. It would probably help if we were closer." He stepped back inside the house, his phone in his hand.

"Then I could use birds to help us get a real bird's eye view," Tony said to Gibbs with a grin. He held out his hand to the rat. "Thanks. That was very helpful. I think I'll call you Mrs. Brisby, although you can see the movie first and see if you approve. Now I'm going to introduce you to a couple of other rats and they'll give you the cook's tour. Literally. Justin is doing his best to become the first rat chef in these here United States. And I know that doesn't mean anything to you, but you'll soon be as crazy as the rest of us."

The rat looked the same on the outside, but inside he could feel she was quivering with excitement, like she couldn't believe her good luck and was afraid things could still go wrong. She carefully stepped onto Tony's hand, curling up a little.

"Justin? Tim? Ziva?" 

In less than a minute, the three rats were front and center. "Hey," Tony said, as he put his hand down. "It's okay," he said softly, crooning to the shaking rat, "we're all friends here. Come on out and meet Justin. He was the first one to bite me, so he's a real VIP around here. And this is Ziva and Tim."

Justin put his two front paws onto Tony's hand and nosed her. "Come and play," he said. "We'll have great fun." 

She looked up at him cautiously, and then at the other two rats, and then back at Tony who nodded encouragingly at her. "Really. We're one big happy family."

Baloo lumbered over and huffed at her. Tony expected her to curl up again, but she just stared at him in awe, like he was the best thing ever. Baloo held out his paw, soft pads up, and she crawled right off of Tony's hand onto the bear's, working her way through his massive claws like they were patio furniture and not lethal weapons of death.

Justin, Ziva and Tim mimicked her and scrambled up on Baloo, and let him give them a ride around the backyard. Soon Baloo was covered with rats and several birds, and Baloo started humming "Bear Necessity" to all of them.

Macavity just sniffed derisively. Tony knew that deep down inside Macavity, instead of a marshmallow heart, lay an angry cat that really just thought he should be allowed to eat all the rats.

He heard a click and looked up to see Clint taking pictures.

"I’m sorry, but I can't stand it," Clint said. “I promise that I'll only put them on my super-secret spy server, so no one but me and Phil can see them. Well, and Abby, but don't tell Phil that."

Gibbs reached a hand down to pull Tony up and then stood with him, Tony's arm sneaking around his waist, as they grinned at Baloo's silliness. Raksha came racing out and nosed around Baloo before starting to cavort around him, as if dancing to his tune. Tucker soon followed, and pretty soon there was a riotous conga dance in the backyard.

"See her?" Tony said, pointing at their newest rat as she sat on top of Baloo's head with rapt wondrous bewilderment.

Gibbs smiled, hugging Tony close. "I don't know what I did to deserve this life with you, but I'm glad I did it."

"That makes two of us," Clint said, moving up to Tony's other side. He took a dozen more pictures. "Really. How is this my life? It is so freaking awesome." He laughed out loud and Raksha came to him and danced around him, nudging him until with another laugh, Clint went out to join the dancing hordes. 

With a laugh of his own, Tony grabbed Gibbs' hand and they joined in the dance as well, having to work hard at not stepping on anyone. The smaller animals were glad to use Tony, Gibbs, and Clint as safe ground, and soon all three men were covered with rodents and bugs and birds and none of them cared as they danced in a large circle in the backyard.

*****

It was done. Tony took a look at it, before looking at Yinsen. "You ready to cram me into this thing?"

"Yes," Yinsen said with a small smile. "It is past time for you to go home."

It felt to Tony as if he couldn't even imagine what home was like, where JARVIS was at his beck and call, where he had silk sheets and bathrooms the size of this entire room. He glanced down at his chest. He'd be taking a souvenir home as well, and it remained to be seen if he would live or die. But he was determined not to die in this hell hole.

He glanced over at the rat and scorpion who had been his constant companions for the last thirty-six hours. Despite Raza's insistence, the men were reluctant to come in here as every time they tried all the scorpions came out to play. They vanished whenever Raza came in, which only served to make Raza go ballistic on his men, calling them cowards and worse. 

"You guys need to scatter. All of you. This place is going to go up in flames. Promise me you'll go someplace safe?" He wished he could take them with him, but there weren't exactly pockets on his flying death trap.

The rat and the scorpion appeared to be consulting with one another and then the rat nodded.

That was the best Tony could hope for. "When I say go, go."

The rat nodded again, taking the time to run up Tony's body and do that oddly touching thing with its rat cheek pressed against Tony's. It chittered something softly to Tony, and Tony wished he could speak rat, although he guessed it was pretty obvious the rat was wishing him luck.

The next hour was spent covering Tony's body with the metal suit, and Tony breathing through the intermittent claustrophobia. 

"Okay, "Yinsen said, "can you move?"

Tony nodded.

"Okay, say it again."

Tony had the directions to get outside memorized, but he was willing to repeat it again. "Forty-one steps straight ahead. Then sixteen steps, that's from the door, fork right, then thirty-three steps, turn right."

There was a sudden hammering on the door to where Tony stood. A guard yelled, "Yinsen! Yinsen! Stark!"

Tony pointed at the rat and the scorpion and waved a metallic arm at them. "Go!" They hesitated for a long moment, but then they scattered.

"Say something," Stark said to Yinsen. "Say something back to him."

"What do I say? You are standing there in a metal suit."

"Then initialize the power sequence." They had blocked the door with a lot of heavy junk, and Tony could only hope it held.

Yinsen moved to the computer and his fingers flew over the keyboard.

"I’m taking you home with me," Tony said. "Just in case you were wondering."

"I cannot. I need to make sure you are successful. And I am ready to be with my family."

"Where are they? We'll go get them."

"They are beyond your assistance," Yinsen said. "They are dead."

"Fuck that. Come home with me. I can set you up in a lab you wouldn't even believe."

Yinsen shook his head. "Just promise me that you will stop this insanity. Stop your weapons from being used for avarice and power. You who talk to animals, and have rats and scorpions protect you. Tell me you promise to do this, and I will believe you."

"I promise," Tony said, meaning it. He planned to shut down that part of Stark Industries as soon as he got home. "But that doesn't mean you can't come with me."

"You cannot carry me. And nothing will survive what you have built that thing to do."

Tony's lips tightened, not willing to give up that easily. He took off the front plate of the suit, yelling, "Rats?"

They hadn't gone far, because in seconds there were hundreds of them. "Can you take him somewhere safe? Where he can hide? Someplace deep where the fire won't reach?"

There were a lot of furry heads nodding.

"Will you go with them?" Weapons were being shot at the door now, and Tony needed to start fighting back. "Please. Please," he asked again, begging. He didn't want one more needless casualty succumbing to his weapons. "Please don't let you be one more death on my conscience."

"I will go," Yinsen said, although he looked dubious. He glanced at the computer and pushed some buttons. "What do you see?"

Tony put his face plate back down. "Function eleven. Tell me when you see a progress bar. It should be up right now. Talk to me. Tell me when you see it."

"I have it." 

"Press Control I."

"I got it."

"I and enter, I and enter. Then come over here and finish buttoning me up, then get out of here," Tony said.

"Okay. All right."

"Every other hex bolt."

"They are coming! They will be through in a moment!"

"Are you done?"

"Yes, yes!"

"Then go!"

"If this does not work, do not feel bad," Yinsen said. "And don't waste your life." With that, Yinsen vanished around the corner with a literal sea of rats.

"Here goes nothing," Tony said, as he turned on all the weapons, and opened fire on the door.

*****

Two weeks later

"What I want to know," Tony Stark snapped at Nick Fury, "is why your beast master freak didn't come to find me. Why did you leave me in that hell hole?" He'd spent a week in the hospital and had replaced the reactor in his chest with an upgrade. Then he'd made a few phone calls to find out what had happened while he was gone, and to send a crew to find Yinsen, hoping when they found the man, they'd find a few rats and scorpions. At least a very specific rat. 

Phil tried not to wince, keeping his face blank, leaving this for Nick to field all on his own. They'd come to Stark Tower in hopes that Stark might be in a more receptive mood here. No such luck. They were currently in what Phil could only assume was Tony Stark's office, although Phil had never been in here before. He didn't think Stark spent much time in here.

"Stark," Nick started slowly.

"Fuck you!" Stark interrupted him scathingly. "I already know anything that comes out of your mouth is going to be a lie."

"Then don't ask," Nick shot back. "I had my reasons."

It took all of Phil's control not to frown at Nick. He was just making this worse.

"Well, I'm sure you can see my reasons why I'd just as soon not do any business with you anymore," Stark retorted, furious.

"Hey," a voice said from the doorway.

"DiNozzo," Nick said warningly.

"No, this is important. I wanted to come get you," the man said, moving forward until he was standing in front of Stark. "I'm Tony DiNozzo. Your beast master freak."

Stark didn't smile at that. "If you wanted to come, what stopped you?"

"There were reasons, and I'll explain them to you, or what I know of them, but I wanted you to know, I did send help. I did what I could to help."

Stark stared at Tony, his jaw dropping. "That was you?" he said, his voice breaking a little. "The rats and the scorpions--that was you?" His voice was shaky now, and he cleared his throat. Then did it again.

Phil felt like he was watching something extremely private and he stood up quietly, gesturing at Nick, frowning until the man followed his example.

"That was me," Tony agreed softly.

Phil and Nick were at the door when Phil looked back and saw Stark hugging Tony, and Tony, because he was that kind of guy, hugging him back. Phil pushed Nick gently out the door and shut it behind them. He intended to point out to Nick that Tony DiNozzo had just saved their collective asses, and he was looking forward to it.

*****

"You don't know," Tony Stark said, still holding on for dear life to this man who had given him the most amazing thing anyone had ever given him and at the worst moments of his life. "You don't know."

"I think I do," DiNozzo said. "They're pretty awesome, aren't they?"

"I'm losing all my genius cred for not figuring it out as soon as I heard about you. It's not like rats and scorpions just decide to talk to people for no reason. Of course it had to be you. Jesus, wow, I feel stupid. All I can say is I've had a bad few weeks," he added wryly, deciding to play the pity card. He was still pissed at Fury, though, because he had no doubt leaving him there was all on him.

DiNozzo smiled kindly at him. "I'm the one who's sorry. I really wanted to go get you."

Tony wiped at his eyes, still awash with emotions. "The rat brought me Fritos and a beer. That was the best damn beer I ever tasted in my life. And trust me when I say I've drunk a lot of beer."

DiNozzo laughed. "They're amazingly resourceful."

"How did you do it? How do you make them do that?"

"I didn't really. I just asked them to find you and to help you. They made up the rest of it on their own."

"You and I are going to be having lots of talks about this," Tony said to DiNozzo, fascinated by the guy. He couldn't help but appreciate how very fine-looking he was.

"Fine with me. But first I have a couple of introductions to make." He moved to the door and opened it, squatting down, holding out his hand. "Come on. Time to be properly introduced." A very familiar rat and scorpion clambered onto his hand.

"Oh, my God," Tony said, and he didn't even care that his eyes were filling with tears again. He'd kick himself for being a twelve-year-old girl later. "Is that them? How did you find them?"

"After we knew you were getting out, I flew over in hopes they were all right." He put them down on Tony's desk.

Tony moved over to the desk and crouched down until he was eye level with them both. "Hi, you guys."

"They don't have names yet; they wanted you to help them with that. And they'd like to get to know you better."

Tony put out his hand and the rat and scorpion scrambled up, the rat staring at him, tail in its hands. He brought them up level with his face. "You guys are the best." He asked Tony, "How do I do that?"

"They need to bite you," DiNozzo said with a grin, "which the rat can do right now, but we need to have some medical equipment handy before the scorpion bites you. We've learned a lot of lessons from past mistakes with different species of scorpions and other venomous animals. This little guy is called a deathstalker, and there's a reason for that." 

Tony looked admiringly at the scorpion. "I saw him in action. Him and the rest of his friends killed a lot of the men who were, well, let's say they weren't big admirers of the famous Tony Stark charm." He gazed down at the two creatures in his hand. "What happens when they bite me?"

"You'll be able to talk to them in your head, and through them, you can access other rats and scorpions." 

"Really?" Tony said, looking wide-eyed at DiNozzo. "Really? Like we're talking?"

"With the rat, yes. The scorpions are more about emotions and sound bites."

The scorpion in Tony's hand turned toward DiNozzo and waved his tail at him menacingly.

"Yeah, big guy, I'm scared of you. Don't let Rock see you wagging that tail around, he'll get Macavity to bite it off."

Tony let out a bark of laughter when the scorpion curled his tail in tight. "Tony Stark, the rat and the scorpion. Sounds like a great name for a band. Go ahead and bite me," he said to the rat.

The rat bit him gently, this time drawing some blood, but only a thin line. Tony's head was suddenly filled with a gentle affection and a sense of worry. "There's a man who wants to hurt you in this house," the rat told him.

DiNozzo grimaced. "I think it's that guy, Obidiah Stane. He's not a good person."

Tony sent him a sharp look. "How do you know that? How does she know that?" he added, gesturing to the rat in his hand that he somehow knew was a female. She was in her usual position: tail in hand, concern on her face. Tony couldn't help but send reassurances to her.

"Rats are everywhere and they're very good gossipers. Stane likes to hear himself talk. Watch your back. I mean it. In fact, you should stay with me for a while, or we should stay here. Just until we know you're safe."

Tony wagged his eyebrows and leered.

DiNozzo rolled his eyes. "Sorry, very much taken." There was a roar outside the door and something thumped against it. "Yeah, yeah," DiNozzo said, walking to it and opening it up. A bear was on the other side of the door, chuffing at DiNozzo. 

DiNozzo grinned at Tony. "I brought a few other friends. Come meet Baloo."

Tony couldn't resist the invitation, and he joined DiNozzo at the door and got introduced to a bear. Then a wolf. A wild glee embraced him. "Are you sure you can't marry me?" He noticed Fury was gone, but Phil Coulson was still hanging around.

"Very sure," a man said, entering the hallway from another door. He had a hawk on one shoulder, and he was followed in by a blood hound and a German Shepherd that raced to stand with Phil. Clint Barton moved to stand next to Phil, as well, another hawk on his shoulder, and the wolf was now leaning against his leg. 

Clint Barton waved at him. "Welcome to the scorpion appreciation club. When I was taken by terrorists not that long ago, the scorpions came and helped me too. A different species, but they were so bad ass, it was fucking amazing." 

There was almost too much for Tony to take in, but the man who'd first entered stepped up to DiNozzo and slipped an arm around his waist, clearly staking his claim. "Jethro Gibbs," he introduced himself, holding out his hand. "Glad you're okay."

Tony shook his hand, only partly paying attention, most of his focus on all the animals. The bear was communing with his rat and, through his rat, he could hear the bear, and he was hysterical. He and the bear had to hang out.

The bear grinned at him. Tony found himself grinning back.

"Welcome to my mad existence," DiNozzo said with a smirk. "Oh, and I found another friend of yours. A man named Yinsen. He says you owe him a lab."

Tony laughed out loud. He hadn't heard word one from the people he'd sent and had been trying very hard not to assume the worst. "Where the hell is he?"

"He's been in the hospital, but he's being discharged in a couple of days," Phil said. 

Tony couldn't stop smiling. Maybe they had made the decision to leave him there, and there was no doubt he'd find creative ways to make Nick Fury pay, but this right here, was quite the consolation prize. Yinsen was alive. His rat was on one shoulder, and the scorpion was on the other, and his house was a zoo, literally, but it felt more like home than it had in a long time. Tony looked at Gibbs. "I'll fight you for him."

"Sorry," DiNozzo said with a laugh, not even letting Gibbs get a word in, "but I'm happy with what I've got. But hey, I think some polar bears found Captain America's plane, so that's sort of cool. You can help us excavate it."

"Polar bears?"

DiNozzo nodded. "Wait 'til you meet them. They're freaking comedians. They're like the vaudeville section of the bear family tree."

Baloo huffed out an offended sound.

"Yeah, you're hilarious too," DiNozzo assured him. Then to Tony, "So, think you'd like some company? We're crazy but pretty lovable. And I think you need someone who's bigger than a bread box watching your back."

The rat on Tony's shoulder was up on all four feet and squeaking at DiNozzo. Tony had to grin as she scolded DiNozzo, telling him that she did a good job protecting Tony, and she would keep doing it.

"I know you're tough," DiNozzo said with genuine admiration. "I know you helped Mr. Stark here fight all those bad men. You are one tough rat."

The rat sat back down, one hand holding her tail tightly, her heart beating so hard it was vibrating her little body. Tony could tell that it had been very overwhelming to the rat to tell DiNozzo off. He decided he was going to call her Mom.

Tony smiled at the rat, and the scorpion, and at Tony DiNozzo, and said, "First of all, it's Tony. Forget that Mr. Stark stuff. And absolutely. Move in for a while. The more the merrier."

The End


End file.
